


Boston Peach

by phobiaDeficient (TheTriggeredHappy)



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trans Male Character, a gift fic, just a bro eating out a bro under the starlight by a campfire, plus chapter two where a bro gives another bro the strap, trans!Scout
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2019-10-26 20:24:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17752889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTriggeredHappy/pseuds/phobiaDeficient
Summary: Scout gets ate out and that’s literally all that happens that's the whole fic.





	1. Boston Peach

**Author's Note:**

> [[gift fic for someone in the discord who held the proverbial gun to my head and also which needs to confess to his crush so he can get himself ate out like a cup of ramen noodles too that’s right i’m calling you out bitch @ me about it
> 
> anyways don’t tell on me for writing this and also don’t judge me thanks]]

 

 

“Can I eat you out?”

 

A pause. Scout looked up from his place breaking twigs apart and tossing the little bits into the fire, absolutely certain that he’d heard incorrectly. “Huh?”

 

“Can I eat you out?” Sniper asked again, expression unreadable with the combination of general dim lighting due to the nature of nighttime in the middle of nowhere and the reflection of the flames on his lenses masking a good portion of his face.

 

Scout floundered for a good few seconds, trying to parse out what Sniper could mean. Was that Australian slang for something other than what Scout thought it meant? It had to be—it absolutely had to be, because there was no way in hell Sniper was asking for what Scout thought he was asking for. He glanced around them, but they were still alone, their little campfire hangout spot still sheltered from view of the base (half a mile or so away) by Sniper’s camper, so he was definitely talking to Scout. But there was also no way that he meant what Scout thought he meant. In that case, Scout would have to be dreaming, but he didn’t remember going to sleep so he _had to be kidding or something—_

 

“If you don’t want me to, that’s fine,” Sniper said, and Scout was probably imagining it in the same way he was imagining the rest of this conversation, but he sounded just a touch disappointed. “I dunno, just figured...”

 

“I... I just... okay, can you, can you run that by me again?” Scout asked.

 

“No, I’m fairly sure you heard me,” Sniper said dryly, clearly coming to the decision that he was being rejected, looking off into the wide desert.

 

Scout fought with a few words. “I... I just, you... wh-why would you wanna... wanna do that with _me?”_  Scout finally managed, maybe a bit more vulnerable than he would’ve liked, but better than leaving Sniper to stew.

 

Sniper looked back over at him, some of that disappointment retracting. He considered the question. “Well, I s’pose... I mean, it’s a bit complicated. Why not?”

 

“I...” Scout fidgeted with the frayed edge of the blanket that he was sitting on. “I just... you said you only like... _guys_ , right?”

 

Sniper snorted. “Yes, I like blokes. And when I say ‘blokes’, I mean _all_  blokes. I’m not some close-minded wanker, I would’ve hoped you’d’ve noticed that.”

 

“No I just, I mean... some guys have preferences for stuff, I...” Scout’s face was turning red, he could feel it.

 

“Mate, if I’ve been reading this wrong and you _haven’t_  been flirting with me just as much as I’ve been flirting with you—and make no mistake, I’ve been flirting with you—“ Scout bit his lip at the subtle lowering of Sniper’s voice, “—I’ll drop it. But I did think we were being fairly clear, and I just thought I’d come right out and ask.”

 

Scout couldn’t help but fidget a bit more. “I-I... I mean... I dunno, I, I just kinda thought you were being friendly I guess? Or, or you were joking maybe. I _hoped_  it was flirting but I just...”

 

Sniper huffed a laugh. “Did you need a written invitation? Look, the offer is on the table now. You can take it or leave it, I’m just making a suggestion, alright?”

 

“I’ll... yeah. Yes.”

 

A pause. “To which part?”

 

“I... to the, yes, to the... I want to. I want you to.” Fuck, he sounded like a total wreck. “I, I’d like that a lot.” He looked up suddenly, voice catching in his throat. “Wait, here? Now? Like, right here and now?”

 

“Well, unless you’re allergic to sand and have got a packed schedule with other places to be and other blokes to get blown by,” Sniper shrugged, expression playful now.

 

Scout flexed his fingers, curled them again. “I... really, why _me?”_

 

“Is that an invitation to talk dirty, or just curiosity?”

 

“Well _now_  it’s the first one,” Scout said, half a nervous chuckle.

 

Sniper grinned, and stood up.

 

Scout was guided to lay on his back, the cushion he was sitting on being slid to lie beneath bony hips, and Scout gently bunching up some of blanket beneath his head. It wasn’t much, but Sniper pushed at his shirt to coax him into taking it off and added it to the small lump of fabric, and, surprisingly, that also helped. Scout felt a bit cold out here, but he still had on an athletic binder and the fire was still burning off to one side, so that helped, and also Sniper was now tugging at the waistband of his pants with subtle motions and a quirked eyebrow so he was sure he was about to feel very warm regardless.

 

He undid his pants without fanfare and shoved them and his briefs down carelessly, and felt a brief moment of panic. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been naked around others before—the locker rooms were a fact of life on the base that could only be escaped by invisi-watches and massive baggy flame-retardant suits that Scout was pretty sure were welded to their skin because _seriously_  he’d never seen Pyro take it off _once_.

 

But Sniper didn’t scoff at him, or stare. He just grinned to himself, pulled off his hat and shades and set them off to one side as Scout wormed his pants down his legs.

 

He wound up lying there, bare to the world except for his tags and binder and hand-wraps and socks (one of which had bunched down around his ankle), and Sniper _literally_  didn’t hesitate before leaning down and setting to work.

 

He nudged Scout’s knees apart and settled in forward, moving to kiss at his neck softly, simple pecks making a slow trek up one vein of his neck, a kiss on the point of his chin, then down the other one.

 

Scout exhaled, relaxing slightly. He felt Sniper smile.

 

Then Sniper _really_  just went to town, hands kneading at Scout’s hips as he sucked a mark into Scout’s neck, and _fuck_  Scout had admittedly thought about doing this with Sniper a good couple of times before (don’t judge a guy’s wank material, c’mon) and he’d always thought Sniper’s stubble was pretty hot but he’d never put two and two together and considered what it would feel like against his skin. And, holy shit, news flash, it felt _fucking awesome_.

 

Sniper was kneading at the outside of his thighs now, and that stubble scratched against the underside of Scout’s jaw as he pulled away to admire the slowly-blooming mark he’d left there, and Scout was pretty sure he’d never gotten turned on this quickly in his entire life.

 

“Easy there, love,” Sniper purred in that _holy fucking christ_  deep rumbly raspy gravelly SUPER hot voice of his, placing a hand over one of Scout’s where he’d gripped Sniper by the shoulder, and Scout realized he was shaking just a bit. “I’ve got you, pretty boy, I’ve got you. You’re alright.”

 

Scout was pretty sure he literally whimpered with need. Sniper’s teeth shone in the firelight.

 

He spent a minute or so kissing at Scout’s stomach, chuckling to himself as the muscles there jumped, Scout far too ticklish to handle such a thing. Sniper didn’t stop, however, being a bastard who was apparently determined to break Scout in half before they even got into the main event. He laid first soft, short, chaste kisses across the sparsely-haired skin, then slowly they transformed into lingering, wet, open-mouthed ones, just below Scout’s navel, and Scout ventured to tangle a hand into his halfway gel-stiffened hair (Sniper’d explained that hair getting in his eyes was a nuisance but he looked silly with his hair short). Sniper stroked his thumbs up Scout’s inner thighs to demonstrate his approval, working them in slow passes that moved _so so close_  to where Scout so desperately was starting to crave them but still so tantalizingly far.

 

By the time Sniper gently (so fucking gently) pushed his thighs apart that tiny bit more and he used his thumbs to spread Scout apart to give Sniper a nice little view of what he was working with, he couldn’t keep the whine from escaping his throat. He just couldn’t. It was a high, needy thing, ringing out loud in Scout’s ears above the sound of the fire crackling away.

 

“Shhhhh, shh shh shh, easy there,” Sniper soothed softly, kissing at the join of Scout’s thigh and pelvis, and god, his stubble felt like _heaven_  against the perilously sensitive skin of the innermost part of Scout’s legs there at the apex, the rumble of his voice felt like _liquid sin_  in Scout’s ears, and christ, if this was what the church was warning him about when they talked about temptation, he suddenly understood what made the devil so dangerous, because Scout would sell his _soul_  for the way it felt when Sniper dragged a tongue through his slick, groaning in satisfaction. “Love, you’ve no idea—“ cut off by another lick, a _slurp_ , it was all so _filthy_  that Scout could _weep_ , “—how good you taste. You got this wet just from little old me?”

 

“Shut the fuck up,” Scout managed to pant, voice too unsteady to even falsify venom, and Sniper rumbled a laugh right into his folds and he cursed through clenched teeth. Then Sniper slurped upwards and sucked lightly at that sensitive nub hidden just there and—

 

Scout keened, or maybe he’d already been keening, because he was so out of breath and gasping from it, desperately gripping at the blanket around his own head to keep from shoving Sniper’s head firmly between his legs and rutting against his face until he found completion. He managed to stifle the noises with a hand desperately pressed over his mouth, and another hand pressed desperately over that one.

 

A few more too-gentle but far-too-much sucks and Sniper pulled back a bit, and when Scout managed to find the strength to look down, his eyes were gleaming—along with much of the lower part of his face, slickened with Scout’s arousal. Scout’s face burned.

 

“C’mon now, pretty boy, don’t hold back those noises now, that’s half of why I wanted so badly to do this,” he teased lowly, and slicked his tongue in a stripe upwards that had Scout’s hips jerking and a gasp practically punched out of him. “There we go, there’s a good boy,” he chuckled, nuzzling a stubbly cheek at Scout’s thigh for a moment before diving back in.

 

Scout was sweating like nothing else in the world, sweltering even in the open chill of the desert night, and his breath was quick and constantly hitching and catching with each pass of Sniper’s tongue. He was slowly being overwhelmed, and the constant litany of nonsense noises that escaped through his lips in a fountain of fricatives no doubt made him look like some kind of virgin, but fuck, he was pretty sure he was dead and this was his eternal reward, this sweet torture. He couldn’t handle it. He _couldn’t_  handle it.

 

“Wait, wait,” he managed to choke, and Sniper pulled back from between trembling thighs, looking up at him curiously, his breath just as uneven and his face red from what was undoubtedly a case of having held his breath for a while, there. Scout took a second to breathe, and then he was shakily getting up on his elbow, and he was working his way out of his binder, pulling at sweaty fabric until he was free of it and able to breathe clearly. “Sorry, just got, got a little hard to, breathe there,” he panted, flopping back again, eyes dropping closed.

 

“Aww. Sorry, love,” Sniper said, partially real sympathy, partially amusement.

 

“Yeah, yeah. Get back in there,” Scout asked, a hand smoothing down the center of his chest to wipe away the sweat that collected there.

 

“What was that? Someone sounded awfully pushy there for a moment,” Sniper drawled, voice dragging thickly against the bottom of his vocal register, resting his cheek against Scout’s thigh, breath ghosting over him where he was still hot and slick and fairly desperate.

 

Without even thinking about it Scout shivered, and his legs dropped open wide, head tossing back weakly. “C’mon,” he half-pleaded, a bit of whine in his tone this time.

 

A pause, a sudden shift in Sniper’s posture. “Fuckin’ hell, you’re gorgeous,” Sniper breathed, and Scout blinked eyes open and looked up at him and saw not sarcasm but instead unrestrained wonder—unrestrained _lust_  in his eyes. “How am I supposed to say no to a face like that?”

 

Scout flushed, and pushed his legs apart that one increment further, and Sniper relented, leaning back down and setting back to work.

 

It took nearly no time for Sniper to have worked Scout back up to full-body desperation, and then Scout was rolling along in a sea of pleasure again, quickly losing all sense of composure and usually tirelessly-defended pride. He was whimpering out pleads to please, don’t stop, more, god more please don’t stop so good _please_ , when Sniper stepped his game up only slightly. Suddenly two fingers were sliding between Scout’s folds, being coated in the mix of Sniper’s spit and Scout’s slick, and then one—his middle finger—was stroking over and prodding at his entrance while Sniper focused on Scout’s member with short licks and light sucks.

 

His need skyrocketed, and he was babbling out in the affirmative, and Sniper chuckled, vibration driving Scout to the brink of madness, then he ever-so-gently and slowly pressed in.

 

He didn’t press in far, just far enough to roll his finger lightly inward and out a few times experimentally, still focusing on lavishing his mouth’s attention on Scout’s most horribly sensitive skin while he adjusted. It felt good, so so fucking good, and Scout’s hips jolted with each ingress, babbling for more, _begging_  for more, until Sniper slid just that little bit inward and crooked that little bit upward and Scout nearly whited out.

 

All at once, he couldn’t handle it all. “Please, please, oh _fuck_  oh please I’m so fucking close I’m—“ His thighs jittered upwards to cradle either side of Sniper’s head, careful not to crush him, and Sniper placed a soothing hand on the curve of his hip and ass while the other continued to move in slow, ponderous motions, holding him in place and comforting him and further driving him insane in equal measure, all the while never ceasing in his ever-increasing suckling. “—oh my god oh my fucking _god_  I’m gonna come please oh god _please oh GOD—please—I’m—oh fuck oh, fuck—“_

 

His orgasm crashed into him like a freight train, leaving him desperately arching and gasping for air, and Sniper’s continued stroking of his sensitive inner wall and ministrations of that godly tongue and lips drew it into a calamitous thing, shaking and jerking and crying out with abandon whenever he found air again. By the time he laid panting and shivering on the blanket, Sniper had finally slowed, moving to long deep sucks that drew the softest mewls from between red, well-bitten lips, both hands gently cradling his thighs. Aftershocks were sent through the haze of devestation that Sniper had left Scout in as he growled and groaned his own satisfaction at the new pool of slick that awaited him to lick up, the scratch of his jaw dulled by saliva and lust but infinitely more sensitive now that Scout came, an electric shock that he was both unable to cope with and unable to live without.

 

“How the fuck did you learn how to do that?” Scout managed to whimper when he’d remembered the concept of English.

 

Sniper pulled back and licked his lips and wiped his face with the back of his hand before he answered. “This has been my wet dream ever since you started flirting with me,” he admitted. “I’d hope I can do it right after imagining it so much. Also, I got a bit of practice when I was younger. You’re not the first bloke with special circumstances that I’ve run across.”

 

“Yeah, well, good luck finding the next one, because I’m pretty sure you killed me,” Scout panted, eyes lingering over the stars overhead through the haze. “You sucked my soul out. Congratulations.”

 

Sniper laughed, and stroked thumbs over the divots of Scout’s hips, which felt unbearably pleasant after the ordeal he’d just gone through. “Well, regardless, wanna know my favorite little fact about, er, blokes like you with different biology?”

 

“The sparkling personality.”

 

“Oh, obviously. But the second-best thing—“

 

“Sense of humor.”

 

“That’s part of the personality, love, do keep up,” Sniper joked back. “Nah, the best thing is the fact that the refractory period is barely an issue. I can get you off half a dozen times in one night if I want.”

 

Scout was absolutely certain that he’d died and this was heaven. “...Your mouth will get sore.”

 

“Eventually.”

 

Scout’s heartbeat had finally started settling, and there it was, quickening again. “...Can we at least keep going _inside?_ I’m cold and definitely gonna get thirsty.”

 

“Sure thing, love,” Sniper said, and kissed him, and Scout didn’t even mind the taste of himself if it meant kissing this beautiful bastard.

 

And if they didn’t quite make it to half a dozen, well, that was their business.

 

 


	2. A Strapping Australian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[let trans guys top 2k19 and also every year after that please and thank you]]

  
  
  
  
  


“But don’t you, like,  _ miss _ getting railed?”

 

Sniper lifted his head from his place lying it on the table they were sat at. He knew that his eyes were red, but he had that sharpness to him that always kept, an alertness he’d trained into himself over the years, despite the best efforts of the frankly ludicrous amount of weed it’d taken to try and hotbox the camper. All it really did was take some of the edge off of everything else.

 

“What a way to open the conversation,” he said dryly.

 

“Okay but really,” Scout insisted, looking up from the book he was playing with. Sniper had found that Scout tended to get tactile when he was high, and was apparently enjoying flipping through the dimestore paperback Sniper kept for when he was losing his mind with boredom. “Like, there ain’t all that many people who wanna top  _ all _ the time, y’know? And like, don’t you  _ miss _ getting hammered into the mattress?”

 

“We’re adults, you’re allowed to just say “getting fucked”, you do realize,” Sniper said, rolling his eyes at Scout’s shenanigans.

 

“Okay but that’s not as fun,” Scout insisted. “It’s way more fun to say like... like, uh...”

 

“Take your time,” Sniper said, putting his head back down on the table.

 

“Nah I know a bunch, I’m just tryin’ to pick one.”

 

“Don’t worry, they’re all equally terrible.”

 

“Shuttup. Uh, like puttin’ on a catcher’s mitt. Bottom half of a horizontal tango. Wide receiver.”

 

“Two of those are for sports I don’t know anythin’ about, and the other one is stupid.”

 

“You’re stupid.”

 

“I also ate you out half an hour ago and let you use up the majority of my bloody supply to hotbox my house an’ home, consider being nicer to me,” Sniper pointed out.

 

Scout hummed, possibly in agreement, possibly because he just liked the feeling. There was a pause.

 

“Anyways—“ they both started to say, and stopped.

 

“Jinx, owe me a kiss on the lips,” Scout said quickly.

 

Sniper lifted his head up to stick out his tongue at Scout, making a mocking noise. Scout did it back. “You were sayin’, though?”

 

“You first.”

 

Sniper huffed out a breath, scratching at his own cheek idly. “I s’pose, to answer your question, yes, I do miss gettin’... railed, you said?”

 

“Makin’ like butter and spreadin’,” he suggested brightly.

 

“ _ Literally _ shut up.”

 

Scout stuck out his tongue again. Sniper rolled his eyes.

 

“The answer is yeah, I do miss it. Sometimes. But it’s not particularly a deal-breaker, if I miss it that much I have two perfectly good hands, and each has five whole workin’ fingers. Or I could get a toy. Not a big deal.”

 

“What if I, like,  _ could _ fuck you though?” Scout asked, insistently enough to make Sniper stare.

 

He went to speak. Paused. Tried again. “You haven’t been talkin’ to Medic about some sort of experimental—“

 

“No!”

 

“—some sort of, of trial run—“

 

“No no no, I’m, that’d be a bad idea. He’s a lunatic.”

 

Sniper nodded. “Okay. Just, that’s the first place my mind went, s’all.” He blinked in sudden understanding. “Oh, wait, you mean like, er. What’s it called. Like a strap?”

 

Scout stared for a moment. “A what?”

 

Silence for a good ten seconds. “ _ Scout _ ,” Sniper said disbelievingly.

 

“ _ What? _ Look, I’m—I don’t know shit about shit, you know this.”

 

“But you don’t know what a  _ strap _ is?! Fuckin’  _ god _ , awright, bloody—listen, I’ll... give me a week, I’ll... we’ll talk about this later.”

 

“Well that’s totally not ominous.”

 

“Shaddup. It’ll be good. Just wait,” Sniper said, already thinking ahead.

 

“Maybe I don’t  _ wanna _ shut up. Maybe I wanna go ahead and keep complaining. Maybe I’ll just whine like forever.”

 

Sniper leaned his chin on his hand. “Oh no. We can’t have that,” he drawled, settling into the melodrama. “What could I possibly do to convince you otherwise?”

 

Scout settled forward as well, grinning. “Can we do that thing again? The thing where we make out but pretend we’re doin’ it to get high?”

 

“Shotgunning does get you high. You’re just too busy moanin’ to notice half the time.”

 

“Well gosh, you make it sound like I’m some kinda hoe, babe.”

 

“You said it, not me.”

  
  


-

  
  


Scout looked over the mishmash of leather straps and buckles in the box Sniper had placed before him. “Okay, so I asked if you wanted to bottom, not if you wanted to like, do some whole kinky bondage setup thing.”

 

“That’s not what this is,” Sniper corrected, pushing the box forward towards Scout. “...But maybe that other thing would work too. Eventually. Not now, though.”

 

Scout started pulling the apparatus from the box, looking over it with furrowed eyebrows, more than a little confused. He frowned further when he saw some kind of toy hit the bottom of the box, falling free of the whole tangle. “Can I get a hint, here? What am I supposed to do with this?”

 

“How about you stand up and I help put it on you, how’s that sound?”

 

“I feel like I should probably ask more questions. Like, I’m not  _ going _ to, but I probably should,” Scout said, standing up as requested.

 

“Pants off, legs a bit apart,” Sniper asked, picking up the mess with a light jangling sound and kneeling before Scout on the probably-dirty carpet of the camper.

 

“Man, I should  _ really _ be askin’ more questions,” Scout repeated, doing as requested, starting to look a bit more worried.

 

“Calm y’self,” Sniper said, rolling his eyes and setting to work buckling the whole thing around his hips.

 

Within about a minute and a half, the whole thing was adjusted and starting to settle correctly into place. Realization finally hit as Sniper started working the toy—some rubbery thing shaped like a particularly nice dick, the illusion only ruined by the fact that it was a very unrealistic pinkish-purple color—through a ring in the front. “Oh, shit! This is one of those things! The—the things!”

 

“The things?” Sniper repeated, amused, as he finished tightening various belts to make the whole situation sit correctly.

 

“The, shit, the, fuckin’—I forget the name!”

 

“Strap-on,” Sniper finally supplied, not getting up from his place kneeling before Scout, eyeing up the whole situation with a growing grin.

 

“Strap-on! Yeah! Shit, this is what you meant by strap? Yeah, I know what these are! Holy shit!” The excitement welling up in his chest was genuine, as well as an amount of warmth at the fact that Sniper had gone and gotten him such a thing. There was also an amount of warmth settling in his gut for a less sappy reason.

 

“Glad it fits right,” Sniper said,  _ still _ not getting up from his place kneeling in front of Scout, gaze flickering between his newly-donned dick and his face. “I went through the trouble of washing it all off and everythin’, be a damn shame if it didn’t fit.”

 

Scout shifted his stance, feeling and watching the way he bobbed with movement, and taking note of the way Sniper’s eyes instantly locked on to the movement. The way his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, how he moved to wet his dry lips almost too quickly to catch.

 

Scout took hold of the base and angled it towards Sniper’s mouth. “Wanna have a taste?” he asked, voice dipping low.

 

Sniper nodded, leaning in without further ado to suck a considerable amount of the length into his mouth.

 

A groan rippled out of him almost instantly, eyes falling closed, hands settling on Scout’s thighs to steady himself as he leaned in to take it deeper. It wasn’t like Scout could actually feel what Sniper was doing, but the sight, the messy sounds, the obvious joy with which Sniper sucked all rocked through him regardless. And the strap was set in such a way that when Sniper started bobbing, it put a small amount of pressure on Scout’s groin with every movement, making his breath catch.

 

Sniper pulled back for air, looking up at Scout with hazy eyes. “God, didn’t know I’d missed this so much,” he said breathlessly.

 

Scout settled hands into his hair, pulling him back forward again. “Well keep goin’, then,” he grinned, and Sniper did so without protest.

 

After a few more moments of letting Sniper settle into a rhythm, Scout carefully rolled his hips forward. Sniper let out a hum, gripping Scout’s thighs a bit more tightly, and Scout took that as permission to continue. He kept up a smooth, steady rhythm, getting a feel of the way he could move, the depth he could hit without making Sniper choke, the new weight he had attached to himself.

 

When he finally released Sniper, the man’s pupils were blown wide, and his pants were tenting furiously.

 

“Okay, okay okay I  _ gotta _ fuck you though,” Scout said, pulse quickening. “Seriously, lay however you wanna lay I just  _ gotta _ fuck you.”

 

“No complaints here,” Sniper said hoarsely, standing on weak knees and glancing around the camper quickly. “How’s about you fuck me over the table?”

 

“Holy  _ shit _ yes,” Scout said, hurrying to the drawer that held the lube for when they wanted to rush things along.

 

Sniper shucked his pants down and laid his front over the table, shifting slightly so he wouldn’t bang his dick, which was hard and nearly leaking, against the edge. He glanced back at Scout, seeing his height relative to where his own hips were. “It’s been a while, and that’s a pretty hefty toy. I’ll definitely need prep. You know what you’re doing?”

 

“Yeah, you’ve messed with me before, and so have I, it’s like the same thing but slower and more lube, right?” Scout said flippantly, pouring lube onto his fingers.

 

Sniper moved to heft himself onto his elbows to look back a bit more easily, brows furrowing. “No, not—not quite. Bit different,” he said carefully.

 

“Just relax, I’ve got this.”

 

“Are you sure you’ve— _ bugger! _ ” Sniper half-yelped, jumping slightly as he felt cold lube against his ass. “Love, maybe a bit of warning?”

 

“What, are you tensin’ up on me?” Scout teased, starting to rub small circles around Sniper’s entrance, watching the way he shivered under the attention. “That’ll make this a lot harder, y’know.”

 

“ _ I _ know that, my worry is that  _ you _ don’t,” Sniper mumbled, lying back down again, moving to bury his face in the crook of his arm.

 

Scout continued to tease for a few seconds before he stopped. “Hey, actually, roll over real quick,” he requested.

 

Sniper only hesitated for a moment before he did as asked, frowning. “Er, why?”

 

“Just trust me.” Scout waited until Sniper settled onto his back, then crouched slightly to take Sniper’s dick into his mouth in the same moment he started pressing his first finger in.

 

Sniper jumped, clearly struggling to relax properly. “Holy bloody dooley,” he breathed, body starting to sort out the sensations that were going on. “S-slow down a mite, maybe.”

 

Scout rolled his eyes, but slowed the press of his finger and redoubled his lapping over the head of Sniper’s cock, gripping the base with his free hand as it twitched in response.

 

It took longer than Scout was expecting to work his way up through the first finger and onto the second, and was considerably messier. But finally Sniper was panting out a request for the next finger, and then the going was a bit easier.

 

“One more an’ I should be fine,” Sniper managed to say with his voice relatively even.

 

Scout curled his fingers, dipping his head down a bit lower.

 

Sniper gasped like he’d had the air knocked out of him, gripping at the edge of the table hard enough to make it creak. “Fuck, slow down,” he panted suddenly, voice desperate.

 

Scout slowed his hand, sucking harder.

 

“No, not your hand, your—your mouth, you—fuck,  _ Scout _ , I’m—“

 

Scout pulled off, and Sniper slumped against the table, breath quick in his chest, thighs trembling momentarily. “Shit, you good?” Scout asked.

 

“Yeah. Just... fuck. That was close. I just need a mo’, then... then I’ll be fine,” Sniper managed, head lolling back. “Pretty sure if I popped before you even got in me properly you’d never let me live it down.”

 

Scout’s eyes widened in understanding, and he grinned. “Wow, you like this that much, huh?” he teased, curling his fingers again.

 

Sniper jolted, going tense again. “God! S-Scout—“

 

“You sound real nice yellin’ my name like that,” Scout smirked, lying a kiss at the crease of Sniper’s thigh and doing the motion again.

 

“God,  _ Scout! _ ” he repeated, this time with an amount of frustration in his tone. “Really!”

 

Scout relented, kissing again as Sniper shakily retreated from that edge.

 

“ _ Why _ do I keep sleeping with you?” Sniper half-joked when he had control of himself again.

 

“Because I’m the hottest dude available,” Scout answered, carefully adding a third finger just to make sure Sniper was properly ready.

 

Sniper lifted his head up a bit to look at him. “Also because I like you. For  _ some reason _ ,” he teased.

 

“Maybe because I blow you so good,” Scout said brightly, kissing at the head of his cock for emphasis and revelling in the way Sniper jumped.

 

“That’s probably part of it, yeah,” Sniper conceded.

 

“Think you’re ready?” Scout asked.

 

“Yeah, think so. Just go slow, yeah?”

 

“Sweet. Roll over.”

 

Sniper did so, and Scout stepped into place behind him, snatching up the lube to slick himself up, rushing a bit with his anticipation.

 

He teased for a moment, not pushing in just yet, watching the muscles of Sniper’s back tense and untense, rolling in waves of uncertainty as he positioned the head and took a few moments to wipe his hands off on Sniper’s shirt (something he would undoubtedly get chided for later). He slid his hands up the center of Sniper’s back and down to his hips again, gripping there, and he waited even just a bit longer. Tense, untense.

 

“I’m ready,” Sniper prompted after a few more seconds.

 

“Say please,” Scout said simply.

 

Sniper turned his head to try and catch Scout’s eye. Tense. “What?”

 

“Say please,” Scout repeated, the slightest roll of his hips to further tease.

 

Sniper turned his head back towards the table, hands clenching on either side of his head. “I’m not gonna do that,” he said, a bit stubbornly. There was sweat collecting on the back of his neck and between his shoulder blades.

 

He gasped as Scout’s hands gripped at his ass, squeezing once, lightly, then again, kneading at him until he forgot himself and rocked back into it, breath coming heavier. Untense.

 

Then Scout stopped, moving to grip his hips again. “Say please,” Scout prompted once more.

 

Sniper’s breath was still uneven. He managed silence for a good few moments more before he finally broke.

 

“Fine.  _ Please _ , Scout,” he gritted out.

 

“Attaboy,” Scout praised, and started pushing in.

 

Sniper went rigid, the softest groan leaving his lips, hardly a wisp of air, followed by a second, louder one. Scout’s heartbeat thundered in his ears at the sight, and he felt himself heating up, but forced himself to take it slowly, aware that he could hurt Sniper pretty bad if he wasn’t careful.

 

Finally he was sunk as far as he could go, and Sniper was digging his nails into the tabletop, breath quick, a shiver running through him. “Oh, fuck,” Sniper managed to choke out.

 

“You good?” Scout asked carefully.

 

“So... so good. So good, love. Oh,  _ fuck _ . I, I need—“ He choked on air as Scout shifted his stance slightly, gulped down a breath. “Don’t—don’t tease me, c’mon, I need you to move,  _ f-fuck _ —“

 

Scout only hesitated for a second before he obliged, pulling out carefully and pushing back in, a gentle roll to make sure he wasn’t about to fuck it up. Sniper just groaned and melted further into the table.

 

He only made it a few rolls in and out before Sniper was murmuring out a request for him to go faster, a heartfelt moan leaving him when Scout complied.

 

A groan left Scout’s throat as well, the feeling of the strap pressing back against his groin very pleasant, but not nearly enough. “This—this isn’t gonna be enough to, to get me off,” Scout managed, breath harsh as he set a steady pace, binder making it a bit hard to get a good breath in but not quite choking him.

 

“You can sit on my face after, love, just—don’t stop, awright?” Sniper pleaded, voice weak in a way Scout didn’t often get to hear.

 

“Didn’t plan on it,” Scout panted, a hand smoothing up Sniper’s back in a soothing motion, a grin crossing his face as he sped just a bit further, changing his stance again to get better leverage.

 

The new rhythm and angle had Sniper releasing high moans, voice gone reedy and desperate, trying to rock back whenever he could to get more friction. Scout tried to wrap a hand under around Sniper to grip at him in response, only for Sniper to whine and snatch up his wrist, trying to pull him away.

 

“N-no, don’t,” he stammered. “Wanna—wanna last, I won’t... won’t last if you do that. I—I can get off from just this, I, I reckon.”

 

Scout grinned, slowing his rhythm slightly as he relented, hands instead smoothing up Sniper’s back again, one moving to grip at his hair, making him cry out when it was lightly yanked. “Damn, babe. Who knew you’d end up so sweet the second you got a dick in you?” Scout teased, voice low, and it sent Sniper panting, head dropping to the table the second Scout released him.

 

Indeed, it was only a few minutes before Sniper was shaking, shivering, making pleading noises in the back of his throat, writhing slightly and rocking back with no small amount of desperation. Scout did him the courtesy of wrapping an arm around front of him to grip at his dick, catching some of the cum that spurted from him and onto the tile that made up the floor beneath the little table. Scout slowed his thrusts to a steady rocking pressed deep inside, reveling in the resistance that came from Sniper clamping down so hard the moment orgasm finally overtook him.

 

Then Sniper was limp again, panting, and Scout carefully pulled back and out, leaning and reaching for a towel to wipe off his hands and the copious amounts of lube that were dripping down Sniper’s thighs.

 

Sniper was still too overtaken and fucked-out to speak, let alone move, and so Scout went back to him once he was done wriggling himself free of the complicated loops of leather that made up the strap. He leaned over Sniper, pressing his chest to the sharpshooter’s back, ignoring the way his sweat soaked into Scout’s binder (Scout had already soaked it pretty thoroughly regardless).

 

“So. Think that’ll be part of our regular rotation?” Scout teased, running hands up through Sniper’s hair, kissing him on the shoulder.

 

“Mm-hmm,” Sniper managed to hum, eyes still closed, voice rough from use.

 

“You liked it?”

 

“Might’ve done,” Sniper agreed, lip quirking.

 

“Sweet. Think you could roll over again?”

 

“Hmm?” Sniper hummed, peeking an eye open to shoot Scout a curious look.

 

“I think I remember someone sayin’ somethin’ about lettin’ me sit on his face,” Scout reminded, smirking.

 

Sniper’s eye dropped closed again. “Y’gonna break my table,” he chided, voice too low and lazy to sound like a proper warning.

 

“Yeah, it’ll be great. C’mon, I’m fuckin’ soaked over here.”

 

Sniper rolled over.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[i lov u peach you’re a cool dude thank u for helping me beta this youre a saint]]

**Author's Note:**

> [[hey for real tho bud just send this to your boy and be like “look it’s us” and let things happen from there coward, u wont
> 
> should i have edited this in the morning? probably. will i? idk maybe but probably not]]


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